)Everybody is entitled to do what they like. However, if they are attention seekers, that's their choice. I'm personally addressing the attention seekers who seek reputation and credit through their actions. I won't reply to any specific comments as it's not my point. I'm doing my own thing, and it's not anyone else's business. It seems like I'm being targeted by others to gain attention for many different reasons, some of which are unknown to me. However, it seems that the main reason why many do so is to seek attention. You can make your own conclusions about it."

Here it is years later and still the same guys looking for the same old thing. While I don't mind the admiration from those who contact me, it seems like all they want is to be dominated and used sexually. When I ask them what else can they offer, all I get is the usual. "I'm a great cocksucker." "I'll take your hands up my ass anyday." "I'm great at house cleaning" YADDA YADDA YADDA!!! If all you're going to offer me is a piece of meat, than no thanks. Do you have a brain? Can you understand big words and know how to use them? Can you put a sentence together without a lot of ums and uhhs? Do you know what's going on in the world? So if you're a box of rocks, with not a brain cell in your head, move on move on. And here I am....still looking. Sigh!

It was way too soon to be sodomized the first time someone tried.  I just couldn't take it.  It hurt so much that I avoided anal sex until I was in my early 50s.  Realizing how many years I wasted being afraid turned me into the eager slut I am now.  It's true.  I can't speak for anyone else but I have heard this happens to a lot of betas.  Anymore when anyone fucks me I lose all sense of manhood and experience a surge of femininity until they finish, sometimes even longer now.  It feels so right but it doesn't last like I want it to.  I'm sure the day is coming when I'll remain a gurl permanently. There are Doms and Dommes here who want submissives like me to feminize and control.  I might be the ideal one to serve you long term and live-in. So, please tell me, how can I serve you?  How do you see me fitting into your household and improving your life?  

The Most Dangerous Woman in the Room Intelligence is non-negotiable for me. Not as a preference, not as a nice-to-have. As oxygen. The dynamic I crave lives and dies on the quality of mind across from me, and frankly, a dull submissive is the least interesting thing I can imagine. What would be the point of the subversion without something worth subverting? Because that is what this is, at its core. Subversion. And it is my favorite thing about my own dominance. There is a particular kind of woman the world has decided it understands. Beautiful, polished, old money in her bones and silver screen glamor in the way she moves. The kind of woman who makes a room recalibrate when she enters it, not loudly, but inevitably. The world looks at her and thinks it knows the story: the accomplished man beside her, the elegant life, the complementary pair. Matched. Balanced. Conventional, underneath the gorgeous surface. The world is wrong, and I find that endlessly delightful. He is, to every outside eye, exactly what he appears: successful, intelligent, the kind of man other men respect without quite knowing why. He carries himself well. He speaks well. He is, in every social context that matters to anyone watching, her equal, if not more. The couple that makes people feel vaguely inspired just by existing in the same room. And then the door closes. And he kneels. That gap, between the world's assumption and the private truth, is where the magic lives for me. It is cinematic in the way that only real things can be cinematic, because no one scripted it, no one performs it for an audience, no one gets to see it but us. It is entirely, privately ours. A secret folded inside the most publicly acceptable packaging imaginable. There is something about a genuinely powerful man choosing, with full understanding of what he is doing, to place himself at the mercy of a woman who will use that power exactly as she sees fit, that feels like the most honest thing two people can construct together. Not despite his strength. Because of it. Submission means nothing from someone who had nothing to surrender. The kneeling matters because of who is doing the kneeling. And I will not pretend the aesthetics are irrelevant, because they are not. The cut of a well-made dress. The particular quality of composure that reads as warmth to strangers and means something else entirely to him. The way the room sees two people and I know, with complete and unhurried certainty, exactly what is happening under the surface of every pleasant exchange. That knowledge is its own kind of power, and I wear it the way I wear everything: beautifully, and without explaining myself to anyone. The Trad wife trope exists as a container for a certain kind of woman. Lovely, accomplished on the correct terms, a complement to the man she stands beside. I find that container useful primarily for how satisfying it is to blow the bottom out of it, privately, completely, in ways the people who built it will never see coming and never get to witness.   That, to me, is what real magic looks like.

Feeling Grateful!  A few days ago I was in a major accident, hitting a deer while I as going 75mph down a highway.  I saw one deer cause another car to swerve and that deer made its way without incident, but I knew that meant there could be more.  Before I knew it, there was a deer immediately in front of me and there was nothing to do but allow the inevitable.  The sound was awful, the hood flew up and I got the car to the side of the road without further incident.  Not quite 48 hours has passed yet, and I am grateful no injuries have surfaced beyond very minor bruises.   The next day, I learned from the wrecker driver what normally results from similar crashes.  That choked me up and caused tears to start to flow.  Yes, my car, which was not going to last much longer anyway, is done, but I am fine.  I consider Myself lucky, blessed and My response is gratitude.   I know, not a "site" topic, but I am sharing it anyway.  

As for about me and who I am. Well most of it is in the profile.   But I am a skilled maker with slightly above skills in welding, metal working, woodworking, plastics, molding, 3d printing, cnc laser cutting, chainmail weaving, scene prop special effects, and a few other random skills.   I also have a high level of skill in photography, video production (both shooting and editing), audio production, photo retouching and manipulation as well as graphic design and media production. (BS in media production) I also dabble in fashion design with a strong interest in fetish ware. Currently teaching myself leather garment sewing, as well as latex/rubber creation. Been playing with bootware and am designing custom heels for high heel boots.   I'm looking for that one female artist who can transform me into a woman. As in post op grs, breast implants, plastic surgery, FFS etc.   In return, my skills and talents would be at her service,  including making a full dungeon with all the toys one could dream of. As I look more fem I would have no problem being a cam girl for her and after I am fully transitioned I would gladly be a beta dom, under her.

What She Is Looking For I am not looking for a fantasy. I am looking for a life, and I expect that life to be beautiful.  The distinction matters because fantasies are performed and lives are lived, and I have no interest in someone who shows up for the aesthetic and disappears when the reality of sustained devotion asks something difficult of them. Total Power Exchange is not a weekend arrangement or a mood that gets activated under the right conditions. It is the architecture of a shared existence, built deliberately, maintained consistently, and governed entirely by my authority. If that sentence produces hesitation in you, this is not your door to knock on. What I want is a man who presents to the world as my equal, polished and capable and the kind of presence that commands a room, who comes home and exhales completely into my ownership of him. The contrast is not incidental. It is the point. I am drawn to the specific magic of a man who holds genuine power in the world and chooses, with full understanding of what he is surrendering, to place it entirely at my feet. Submission means nothing from someone who had nothing to give. I want the full weight of what you are, handed over without reservation. I require intelligence. Not credentials, though I respect those. The living kind: curiosity, attentiveness, the capacity to learn me with the focused dedication of someone who has decided I am worth studying completely. I want to be known the way Keats knew beauty, as a truth so self-evident it requires no argument, only devotion, only the willingness to stand before it and be completely undone. I will know immediately whether you have paid that quality of attention. I always know. I am a dominant woman in the fullest sense: not a role I perform but a nature I inhabit. I move through the world with the ease of someone who has never needed permission to take up space, and I expect my home to reflect that, my dynamic to reflect that, my partner to reflect that back to me in the quality of his service and the depth of his surrender. The house runs on my standards. I have the Binder, and there is ceremony in you holding it, learning it, and cherishing the standard I have created through my writing. My comfort is the first consideration in every room. There is good linen and good light and the specific luxury of a life curated entirely to my taste, and you will maintain it to that standard because anything less is not a home I recognize. My pleasure is the organizing principle of our shared life, not as imposition but as the natural order of a structure we have both chosen and built together. I want your obsession. Earned, total, focused entirely on me. I think of E.E. Cummings carrying his heart in his hands, given over completely, and I want that, the real version of it, the version that costs something. I want to be the thing your thoughts return to without deciding to, the standard against which you measure every choice, the presence that lives in you so completely that pleasing me stops feeling like a task and starts feeling like breathing. I will wring that out of you, patiently and completely, until there is no daylight left between what you want and what I require. I mark what is mine. Permanently, intentionally, with the quiet pride of a woman who builds things to last. I do not share. I do not negotiate my authority. I do not soften my expectations to make them more comfortable to receive. The contract I offer is real, the terms are mine, and I hold to them with the same precision I expect from you. Emily Dickinson wrote that she dwelt in possibility, a fairer house than prose. That is the quality of interior life I bring to everything, including this, including you, and I expect to be met there by someone whose imagination is equal to mine, whose capacity for devotion is as expansive as what I am offering in return. And what I offer is not small. My world is one of ease and intention, of travel and good rooms and the particular luxury of a life built by a woman who knows exactly what she wants and has never once settled. I will take you to Greece and Japan and every beautiful place I have decided I deserve, and you will move through those places slightly behind me, handling everything that needs handling, leaving me free to inhabit the world at full scale. You will carry my bags, you will shine my boots, you will lay out my clothing and wonder at the softness of my lingerie, you will rub oil upon my skin and marvel aat the way I soak up the golden light at the end of a day we spent together.  In return you will live inside the most extraordinary thing available to a man like you: my full, genuine, sustained attention, chosen with my eyes open, given to someone I have decided is worth knowing completely. My care, when you have earned it, is not small. My world, once I allow you into it fully, is a place that will ruin you for anything less.  I know precisely what I am offering. The question is whether you are worth offering it to, and worth being molded in my carefully crafted image.   

The following stated by another Rubberist summarizes my passion:Those that enjoy full rubber enclosure are into it because It's about being cut off from the outside world and being controlled in bondage, objectification. It also arouses by the feel of hot rubber on the skin, the aroma, the sound and the look.😍Rubber envelopes and controls the senses and combined with bondage and breath control is a total experience 😁I love it.

Yes, age is just a number.  My husband was 12 years older than me, so it is a number that had never really bothered me.  That being said... Age is a real thing.  We all have baggage and being a widow is (just some) of mine.  You will have to accept I am not a divorcee, I will always speak lovingly of my past husband as he is not an "ex" and I have experienced a decade of being a caretaker for an older man.  That season of life is done.  This is my season to be cared for.  Call me selfish, call my bias, call me whatever... but this is the baggage I carry, these are my scars.  I am truly grateful for all the mail I have gotten from the 60+ something crowd... but I can be nothng but honest and say, it isn't going anywhere, no matter how great we get along...  Age IS more than just a number... It is deteroration of your kidney's, and heart, and liver.  It is break down of your joints, it is restless legs, and trouble with the lungs... I  am glad you eat great and hit the gym every day... that right there makes us total opposites for the vanilla side of life... 

I genuinely love my boyfriend. I have loved a good number of people but this is the first time I've dated anyone for longer than two weeks who has not been argumentative, selfish, mean, and committed to never understanding me. And more often than not we communicate very well. We have argued twice in almost a year. He is kind and gentle with me. He is thoughtful and generous. He makes me feel calm and at peace. He doesn't behave as if he is irritated with me when I am anxious, depressed, or having panic attacks. He grounds me. He is all of the things I've wanted from all the serious partners I've had in the past.    He has never ever hurt me (except once when he asked me to go home and I took it personally lol).   Absolutely zero of my relationships have ever been this good, the worst being my marriage. I can say I am absolutely happy when I am with him which is what pushed me to want to be happy when I am without him. I had never thought it possible for me to be happy, alone or with another person since I had never been happy in a relationship before. I felt good and would call it happiness but I wasn't happy. Now that happiness is possible I must learn to find it inside of myself which is difficult when you've been miserable for 31 years    So this is what it means to find your person.  He is like starlight, like the laughter of babies, like the colors of the sunrise and the sunset, like the buds in spring, like a glass of refreshing cool water, like a warm hug. He is love. He is safety. Something I never thought I'd ever have. Something I've never seen anyone have in person. Something I didn't expect from what was supposed to be a tinder one night stand.    A one night stand that ended up with us being intertwined so intimately that we are now inseparable.

The Harem BitchPeople have been asking rather pointed questions about the dynamics of my lifestyle. Tonight we talk about the bitch. Now it needs to be said that while I'm describing a particular event, this happens all the time in many different ways. The room is dark and there's a fan going. In the middle of the room is my massive 4 poster bed (beautiful to look at, bad for bondage), and beside that on the floor is a small thin mattress. On that mattress is a girl who's been hogtied with soft silk scarves. This one I've named bambi. She's blindfolded, and the fan generates enough noise that she can't hear what’s going on in the next room. Being the bitch of my harem, she's used to this and waits patiently for whatever I have planned. On the other side of the bedroom door the scene is quite different. It’s brightly lit, my other slaves are laughing, a movie is playing, and puppy (my jewel) is snuggled up next to my feet on her dog bed. I lean down and whisper instructions into her ear, and she grins ear to ear. "Yes Master!" she says as she pops up, startling her 'sisters'. They look at me for an explanation, which I don't give. I own them, I don't need to explain. Plus they'll have their fun shortly. Puppy slips into the dark bedroom. Wandering over to bambi, she orders her to roll over. My puppy can be a bit of a sadist when allowed, so she relishes watching this girl struggle to get into the position she was told to. Bambi complies quickly, and before she can get completely settled puppy suddenly drops into a squat onto bambi's face and grabs a fistful of bambi's hair, forcing her face into puppy's pussy. Bambi lets out a noise of surprise, but knowing her place, obediently begins to lick. She's come a long way from when I got her. When I first found bambi, the only pussy she'd ever seen was her own. Now as puppy rides her face, gyrating down, bambi expertly licks and flicks, suckles and tongues. Puppy's moans grow loud enough to be heard from the living room, bambi's hands struggle against the scarves binding them to her ankles involuntarily. Finally, I hear screams mixed with barking, the noises puppy makes when she cums, and all is quiet. I smile at the rest of my little harem, their eyes now fixed on me in a "IS IT MY TURN YET?!" sort of way. Then the moans from the bedroom begin again. Poor little bambi is going to make each of my group cum twice tonight.... After more barking and screaming, a sweaty, beaming, smiling puppy turns up in the doorway. "thank you master!" she says with excitement. Kitten goes in next, followed by princess, their moans and screams echoing as they take their turns on bambi, each one of them appearing in the doorway with that same satisfied, excited smile. But we can't forget about the poor bitch, now can we? Puppy goes back in first now wearing her strapon. These things aren't your normal dildo on a harness, I got the good gspot kind. Bambi, still blindfolded and still in the dark is rolled onto her stomach with her ass high in the air. It needs to be said that puppy LOVES her strapon. She LOVES the power it gives her over the other girl, and the shriek that comes out of bambi that I hear all the way from my comfy chair tells me that puppy is definitely enjoying it tonight. The bitch is a very vocal girl, and my puppy is pounding her with some power. Given permission to let bambi cum once, puppy draws it out, edging her, making her beg, then denying her before starting over again. After about 15 minutes, you hear puppy yelling at the "dumb lesbian slut" to cum. Above puppy's shouting degrading comments, you hear a desperate scream from bambi, followed by silence. Kitten starts to bounce at my feet with excitement, now wearing her strapon, and puppy appears in the doorway again wearing an evil smile. Ah, that girl. As I draw princess's face into my lap to suck my cock, I send kitten in. Kitten uses a little more finesse than puppy. My kitten is naturally bi and enjoys the sensuality of fucking bambi. You hear a much more skillful approach, rather than the raw power puppy used, and bambi's moans raise and lower accordingly. Eventually, bambi is allowed to cum, and kitten lays with her for just a minute. It isn't time for aftercare yet, but I allow her to comfort the bitch for a moment. Princess's mouth is replaced on my dick by puppy's, and I send her in. Princess, like puppy, isn't bi. But she loves the power she feels when dominating with a strapon. Her approach is purely mechanical. Hard, but not too hard, and unrelenting. Bambi begs to cum and is repeatedly told no, but princess's thrusts don't change. Wham, wham, wham, wham, over and over and over and over. Desperation creeps into bambi's voice, princess just holds her look of intense concentration. More begging from bambi, more denial from princess. Then finally after an eternity princess calmly says "Okay do it", and bambi lets out another scream as a powerful orgasm washes over her. Princess, very matter of factly, simply stands up and walks off, ripping the strapon out of bambi as she goes. Bambi just lays there panting and recovering for a few minutes, before she feels my very familiar footsteps. I'm 6'4, 260lbs. Its easy to tell my footsteps apart. I have large hands that wrap around the back of her head and grip a massive handful of hair. She gives a small yelp as she's hauled to her knees but opens her mouth as wide as she can. I remove her blindfold and look down into her blue eyes. I can tell in the very dim light that she's begging me to be gentle.....Its almost like she knows what's coming. I love to hear her choke, shoving my cock into her throat repeatedly, giving her a moment to recover, then fucking her face more. Her eyes are squeezed tight shut, the sounds of her struggling echoing out into the living room where my bitches bask in the noises. My thrusts grow faster, her gasps and chokes become louder before finally i shove my balls all the way up to her chin, her nose buried in the skin above my dick, and release down her throat. When she begins to retch, I let her fall to the ground. She pants and composes herself, laying on that little mattress, and I gently begin removing the scarves. she lays there limply for a moment as I gather her up into my bed, before she throws her arms around me and buries her face in my chest. "you're a good girl, you did well" I croon in her ear, and she buries deeper. After she's recovered, she spends the rest of the evening out in the living room with her sisters. They've showered her, gotten her freshened up, and she's snuggling with one, then the other, crawling back and forth like a pet with a big family. She has a huge smile on her face, and is loving the attention. So, what exactly IS a bitch and how do they wind up here? Excellent question. So glad you asked. Contrary to popular opinion, being the bitch isn't simply the starting point in my harem. Put quite simply, a bitch born to be a slave. When I say that, I mean they really haven't gone anywhere in life. Failure after failure in relationships, dead end jobs. This particular girl couldn't hold a job because "mean customers made her cry". Kitten and princess are both gainfully employed as managers. Puppy manages my schedule and manages my harem (more on that in another article). Bitches are the girls who are always one paycheck away from starvation, and one angry relative away from living on the street. In me they find a place where they don't need to be strong, they simply need to serve. Sooo they're the house pets. No job necessary, their days are full of domestic chores. Cleaning, doing their sisters laundry, taking tasks and directions. They are trained for sex and sexual activities to be the center of their lives. While we all love sex, it isn't the center of our lives. I have my businesses, kitten has work and

"life is full of endings that you never know are coming until they already pass"I wrote that quote in high school. Some of us learn and grow and im grateful that many things have been learned. Some answers will never be known for sure from my journey here in this lifetime. A new chapter is starting and perhaps the last chapter . Today i finally got to start moving things to a new home . A home that I feel will be my last but things are never certain and I have learned you have to live in the moment and ride each wave. I feel the shift of energy in the earth but I also know that things must shift so they can heal and balance. My Master Mate and Husband and I have been through many things in these last three years. We have grown and we intend to keep growing together. I have learned about the light and the dark. I have learned about walking paths. I have learned about consequences for actions. I have learned about addiction . I have learned what vanilla mindsets are like and how many of those could just things that are spiritual and misunderstood. I have definitely learned and experienced Dominance and submission through mind body soul spirit and energy. We cant protect people from all pain all we can do is try to guide but some lessons must always be learned by the being. It feels good to write, its been awhile since I sat down and let words flow. There is always new beginnings

WELL FOLKS I HAVE GOTTEN MOVED AS OF LAST NIGHT MARCH 29. NOW HAVE TO GET SOME REST SO I CAN GET NEW HOUSE STRAIGHTEN OUT. I LOST ONE OF MY PUPS BECAUSE SHE WAS SO SCARED OF THE MOVE. SHE STAYED UNDER THE HOUSE. COULDN'T GET HER OUT. BUT I LEFT FOOD AND WATER FOR HER. SHE DIDN'T BARK LIKE SHE DID THE DAY BEFORE, YESTERDAY. THE NEIGHBORS WILL KEEP AN EYE OUT FOR HER. NOT MEETING ANYONE YET. BUT WILL LET YOU KNOW WHEN. HAVE A GREAT DAY!            MISTRESS CATSTAR...

LOL Some of ya'll are just pulling My leg now... ..."Another one gone, another one gone, another one bites the dust...yeah"   I'm learning to embrace this process.  No doubt other dominants will agree, this 'finding' process hones you to a fine instrument of decisiveness and determination and deliverance. One unfortunate aspect, at least in My experience, is that the nincompoops flood ones bloody inbox with so much wasting of time that they bury the sincere inquiries.  Oh well, THANK God I have some hopefulls in the wings.  Let's say a prayer they fly true and straight! ************** I've been wanting to say a word to all the dominant and submissive men I've had the pleasure of speaking with here who are or who have been caregivers (admitely I don't often speak with women caregivers).  The amount of you who have cared for mothers and wives, Mistresses and sisters, daughters, grandmothers, aunts and on...  You have surprised Me with your care and your strength, inturn sharing your strength with Me and adding to My own convictions and care.  THANK YOU for all that you do!  You all are true gems and what would the world be like if not for the men who care for us?  For those of you whose loves have passed on, My heart goes out to you as you journey foward after the battle you have endured.  May you find peace and kindness and mutual hearts to heal after the storm.  For those of you who continue on as I do, nurturing those whom we love and care for, may you find the strength to continue giving your grace and goodness.  I hold a tender place in My heart for those who give of theirself and I pray for us all ways.  May God bless you and keep you and those whom you love, in grace. You are not alone and you are loved.

March 4, 2024   Las Vegas Strip - Restaurant Reviews by Hotel and simple bullet points! By Mistress Rikka (current Vegas Resident)   Stratosphere Hotel   On Top of The World   Well - I have had the pleasure of dining here for numerous occasions- birthdays, relatives in town, etc. What I like: THE VIEW THE VIEW & THE VIEW.  The place does a full 360-degree rotation so you can experience the full breadth of Las Vegas-from mt Charleston to Mt Frenchman and all the sleazy and glamourous neighborhoods in between. You must pay $25 per person to get a seat just along the window, however. I think the views are still decent when not along the window, however. The food is quite good, and the chef does actually feed you reasonable portions, but the menu is limited.  The last visit in mid--2023 it was good for steak, chicken (1 dish) and 1 offering of fish (I think it was seabass). The service all 4 times I went was outstanding – friendly and not ‘stuffy.’ What I do not like: ·  Touristy.  Remember it is in The Strat so yeah - walking to and even up those escalators can make you cringe. ·  It is often swamped with people once you make your way to where you are to check in with the restaurant.  The receptionist will tell to go up one floor and wait where they send you a text- and that can get annoying.   Overall - a worthwhile place to go to and kids can enjoy it, too.       Bellagio Hotel